


Jian

by Piandaoist (piandaoist)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Abandonment, Aftermath of Violence, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Bigotry & Prejudice, Brutal Murder, Brutality, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Neglect, Child Soldiers, Childhood Trauma, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Depravity, Depression, Explicit Language, Gen, Horror, Human Trafficking, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Anguish, Molestation, No Smut, Orphans, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Violence, Slavery, Suicidal Thoughts, Threats of Violence, Violence against Children, Wartime Violence, animal cruelty, no kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23906740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piandaoist/pseuds/Piandaoist
Summary: “There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treats its children.”- Nelson MandelaJian was a young boy, orphaned by his parents, who was thrust into a sinister world of child trafficking, sex slavery, gang violence, and war.  "Jian" is a collection of stories about how one lonely boy becamePiandao the Butcher, the Fire Nation's most ruthless and terrifying killing machine.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11
Collections: Piandaoist's Short Stories Collection, The Piandao Library





	Jian

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the trigger warnings carefully. There are a lot of them.
> 
> Stories in the collection may be posted out-of-order based on the time of their completion. I will reorder stories chronologically based on when events happened as stories are posted.
> 
> Special thanks go out to Magus1108 ( https://archiveofourown.org/users/magus1108 ) for giving me a vibe check read-through for the first story. :D

She was the spark that ignited Jian’s fear. Other grandmothers gave their grandchildren silver coins. She gave Jian a feeling of dread that came from knowing he wasn’t wanted. Jian was three.

Hidden within the shadowy gloom of Grandmother’s study, he watched through the cracked door as the grown-ups talked in the next room. He hoped with each panicked breath that they wouldn’t catch him eavesdropping again. He touched his cheek when he remembered the last smack he got from his mother for “nosing in other people’s business”. Ironically, “other people’s business” seemed to always involve talking about him.

“This new master says he can sense the flame inside Jian.” Rarely did Jian’s mother sound this pleased about something. But Grandmother would snuff out her happy flame soon enough.

“Idiot!” Grandmother snapped.

 _There it was_ , he thought as he watched his mother’s smile fade. _She’ll be mad at me again._

“That man is slick! He’ll take you for every last coin. The sages have spoken. Unlike your “new firebending master”, they aren’t losing money by telling you the truth. I didn’t raise you to be this stupid! Get rid of that kid and keep having babies until you pop one out that will build our legacy up, not tear it down. If you want, I can send a hawk out to your cousin.”

Jian hid behind a side table when Grandmother moved closer to the door to light a flame under her teapot. This wasn’t the first time Grandmother had suggested Jian "disappear". His father told Jian his cousin’s nickname was “The Magician” because she made people disappear for a living. Jian knew from watching the magic show that “disappear” meant to vanish without a trace like a scent on the wind.

There was a place on the big island called The Hole. Jian visited it last summer while on vacation. It was a circular lake so deep, you couldn’t see the bottom. Only the black inky void of nothingness appeared to lay below the water’s surface. Jian thought it looked like a place where the light went to die. That must be where those who disappear end up, forever alone, swallowed whole by the darkness.

As Jian’s mother made her way to her feet, Jian turned on his heel to--

“Ow!” he hissed, fighting to keep his voice below a whisper as he slammed against a rock-like body.

A spotted skeleton-like hand slipped out from the old man's robes. It was Jian's nightmare fuel. Gnarled by arthritis, the hand looked like a dragons' talon that could pluck out his eyes.

Jian knew this man only as The General. In his fear and confusion, Jain forgot he was there.

Jian had heard the stories of how the General had killed off the airbenders at the Southern Air Temple. To Jian, he was a hunched-over old man in a wheelchair who needed someone to clean the drool from his chin.

No one spoke ill of the General unless they wanted Grandmother’s walking stick upside their head. He was one of the four generals who attacked the airbenders during Sozin's comet. He was a legendary warrior, a prodigal firebender, the greatest swordmaster in Fire Nation history. Grandmother never shut up about his accomplishments.

The General smelled like pee.

A mesh of shadows and a trick of the light made it seem like the General's eyes followed Jian as he moved around the room. Jian thought Grandmother had set him up like that to frighten visitors. She was a bit off. At the front gate, she had a statue of a man holding his own decapitated head in his hands. At this point, the General was more of a prop than a person, but he was no less terrifying in his catatonia.

The General hadn’t spoken, hadn’t moved in years. His shallow breathing carried on it the whispers of someone from a faraway place. His eyes were wide black holes; windows to a place that Jian could almost peer into. The room was a mysterious realm where the shadows were darker, bigger, colder, almost alive.

Jian heard the ***fwoosh***. He saw the room light up as an inferno raged in the General’s eyes. He darted to the other side of the room, carried forward by the momentum of his fear. Jian sought refuge behind a highback chair while he waited to see if the General would rise up to snuff him out.

He froze, his blood turning to ice water when he heard the ringing of steel as a silhouette moved within the flames. Grandmother burst through the wall of fire, her toothy grin and sparkling eyes lit up red by the fire's light. _She had a skinny sword hidden in her cane the whole time?_ Judging by her speed, she didn’t even need a walking stick.

She swiped at Jian, careful not to hit the General as her blade made a pass at Jian's shoulder. He moved away, throwing his tiny hands up to protect his face when she threw a punch that passed by his nose.

"Grandmother... Please, stop!" he begged, gasping for breath as he stumbled into a large ceramic vase. "I'm sorry! I won't snoop around again." His heart was throbbing in hair-raising terror as he stood up against the wall.

She pulled back, watching as he dug his nails into the nearby chair for balance. "I don't care who you spy on, Boy," she snapped, advancing forward to pick up where she left off. The disdain in her weathered voice cut through him like a dull serrated knife.

Jian dodged every swipe of her sword as it whizzed by him but not by much. When he ran behind the General's body for cover, her smirk blossomed. Then, she let out a howling mad laugh when he tried to topple her by pushing the General's wheelchair into her.

"Weaponizing your great grandfather? Good for you!" There was hope for the little shit after all. At least he wasn’t a flaming idiot like his parents. “You can adapt, think fast on your feet. I like that.”

Her fire engulfed her blade, the heat intensifying as flames shot up toward the ceiling. Beads of sweat dripped down Jian's face, but he couldn't tell if it was from the searing heat or from his heart slamming against his chest. A rapid surge in adrenaline caused Jian to vomit in his mouth before he could scream. But he swallowed it, hard, and it went down like burning garbage. If Grandmother was chasing him with a fire sword, he could only imagine what she’d do to him if he threw up on her ugly rug.

She was fast but Jian, much to her surprise, was faster.

“Looks like those firebending lessons are paying off, huh, Boy? Your forms are good, clean, solid. Too bad you don’t have the Dragon’s Breath. You would have been a killer firebender! Kinda like an airbender, aren’t you, with all that ducking and dodging?”

Jain zigzagged, avoiding another strike. But he stopped dead in his tracks when she thrust the blade’s tip within mere inches of his face. That got his attention.

“But they’re dead, Boy, and you will be too if you don’t come up with something more fierce than running for cover. The General over there said Sozin was an idiot. It wasn’t intelligence or elemental mastery or good planning or a big-ass military that took out the airbenders. It was raw brutality.” The old woman erupted into another fit of laughter as she made a pass at Jian’s right ear. “They were completely unprepared for our savagery. You remember that, Jian. Fear is the most powerful weapon you could ever wield against your enemies.”

Jian nodded. He understood. Fear sure worked its awful magic on him. 

He jumped with a start when she dropped the sword at his feet. “Pick it up.”

Jain lingered, held back by the memory of what happened the last time she offered him something--then snatched it away. Then he remembered what happened the last time he hesitated to follow one of her commands. His mother had an embarrassing time explaining the bruises to their neighbors. 

“Pick. It. Up,” she snarled, rigid with fury at his stalling. Her golden gaze could have frozen the vast ocean.

The sword was lighter than he expected, and it was still warm from her fire. The blade was beautiful, shimmering in the firelight.

“You probably wanna take a stab at your ol’ grandma, don’t you, Boy? I’ve given you plenty of reasons. Go ahead. Let’s see what ya got!”

Jian balked. Was he supposed to hurt her? He wasn’t stupid. He watched her slaughter stray animals with the General’s sword. She'd lure them in with the promise of a meal then *whack*. Heads rolled and blood poured or squirted or flowed from their corpses. It wasn't a game; there were no take-backs with a sword.

She watched in disgust as his whole body trembled with horror. Instead of running away, he fell into a weak stance, earning him an approving nod from Grandmother. But he refused to raise the blade, keeping the tip low to the ground, as she crept in to attack.

His dark lashes brimmed heavy with tears as he clasped the hilt with his small, shaky hands. She hissed like a viper in the grass. Once his resolve crumbled and the flood gates opened, there was a rawness to his cry like the pain of an open wound.

The sword clattered to the ground. “I don’t want to stab you, Grandmother. I just want you to be normal.”

The old woman looked him over, staring at him long enough to make him squirm. Her eyes flickered as if they held her flame when she let out a laugh that made his insides curl up. Then he felt a sting from the back of her hand against his cheek that knocked him back into the General.

“Fuck normal! No one ever got anywhere by being normal.”

She kicked her sword up from the ground, sheathing it. "I don't give two shits whether you can bend fire. Your mind's as sharp as this blade, Boy, and that's all you'll ever need. But you're as weak as an airbender. This was a test; you failed! You should have stabbed me when you had the chance."

Jian peered up at her with round tear-filled eyes as he struggled to pick himself up. He grunted, crying out when her well-placed foot on his back pushed him down on his knees.

He cast his eyes onto the ground, wiping an overflow of tears away with his arm before looking back to her. "Why, Grandmother?"

His bloodshot gray eyes told the story of his brokenness. He fared better than his mother when she was his age, but he was still useless.

"If you don't strike your enemies down, they'll keep coming for you, Boy. You'll never have any peace.”

Jian stood up, reaching out to touch her--to connect with her. She pulled back before he could wrap his grubby hand around hers. “You’re not my enemy, Grandmother.”

She took in the sight of him: his gray eyes, his tight curly hair, his dark skin. He was backwoods, and he looked more and more like his softhearted father with each passing day. What a waste of sperm that guy turned out to be.

She sneered.

“Yes, _I am_.”


End file.
